


I need a fix, 'cause I'm going down

by Pearly_Pornography



Category: Alfred's Playhouse
Genre: Bestiality, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Horror, M/M, Necrophilia, Rape, Self-Harm, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6523492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanting to face the truth, Alfred switches places back with the Dictator and soon realizes his mistake.</p><p>warning for a lot of slurs</p>
            </blockquote>





	I need a fix, 'cause I'm going down

He wanted to raise his voice. The Dictator sighed.

"You're gonna regret asking to go back, kid." The Dictator almost looked like he pitied Alfred. "I can't imagine you're prepared. To feel what the world is gonna shove in your ass, literally and figuratively."

"...I--"

"I mean, not that I care. Honestly, giving you all the work and having this place all to myself? That'd be a welcome change." He flopped down onto a chair nonchalantly. "Besides, I know you'll be begging to come back within the hour... If you're not doing that, I'll be amazed. Almost proud of you. Look at Alfred, finally able to be in the real world, where he can slice open his legs and it'll actually hurt."

Alfred looked down. "You still want to go?"

"I do."

"You're an idiot, you know?"

There was something stinging behind him. Something cold and unkind. Alfred opened his eyes to the echoing of the Dictator's voice. 'Popsicle... popsicle... popsicle...'

"Come on man, rent us The Sound of Music."

"Are you someone's goddamn housewife? No, I'm not doing it."

The two figures loomed over Alfred. One was behind him, laughing. The coldness in his asshole ran through his bones. The stranger laughed at his sensitivity and held him down with a grin plastered across his face.

"Every day you do the same shit. Are you some kind of retard, dude? I buy those popsicles so I can eat them."

"But it's funny."

"Look at that!" The other one dropped a heavy book on Alfred's paw. He cried out. "I dropped all of the shits I could possibly give! Quit putting shit in the damn dog's ass, faggot." Alfred pulled his mangled hand out from under the book, the bones jutting out abnormally.

"He's really pretty."

The third one spoke, after a bit of silence, rolling his eyes.

"Dog-fucking weirdo. I'd kill you if we weren't getting paid for your weird fetishes."

The one twisted the popsicle, and Alfred scraped his nails on the floor, whimpering. The third kicked him in the nose, not responding to his innocent expression. That face always worked in the Playhouse... 

_"You not liking it? We can swap at any time."_

The Dictator was in his mind, so Alfred hoped he could hear the only thought in his mind: "I'm fine".

_"Just call me if you need me."_

"Deedee kicked the bucket." The other spoke after leaving the room momentarily. "I think she had AIDs."

"Fuck!" The third grunted. "How much money do you think we could make off of fucking her corpse? The camera's probably done charging."

"Hey, Carter!" The one looked up as The other spoke. "Get the camera, we're giving Deedee a last fuck before we throw her out. You can feed her to the dog when we're done, a'ight?"

Carter looked up, shoving the filthy popsicle into his mouth. The other and The third grimaced with disgust. "Don't eat that."

"Don't tell me what to do."

He grabbed Alfred by the collar and walked him down the stairs. The basement reeked of decay and illness. The walls seemed almost alive with the maggots crawling through, already feeding on the newest wad of decaying meat. The other brushed off some of them, propping the corpse into an upright position.

"Carter. The camera."

"Here you go."

The one knelt down, rolling down his pants and unclothing his genitalia. 

"Alright... Let's do this." His body buried deep within that of the tiny girl, and she didn't even react. Alfred knew she was dead, but he didn't want to believe it. He didn't know where he was or what was happening or _why_ he was, but she was most certainly a nice, kind girl. "Lou, I need you to hold the camera, it's shakin' too much for this to come out right."

The third -- Lou -- grabbed the camera, panning towards the corpse's rotting face, and then towards her ugly genitals. "Christ, this is absolutely depraved. Hey, Carter, you want me to get in some shots of you 'n Pickles?"

Carter grinned, practically tearing off his sweatpants as he mounted Alfred. He wanted to whine and scream but all of his barks were only responded to with silence. His image was picked up on camera, he kicked and cried out. His whole body was stuffed like a taxidermy project, his eyesight went blurry, his body hurt and his limbs went weak. The universe went away.

"That was quick." The Dictator looked him in the eye. "Back to the Playhouse already? I told you you couldn't handle it. You can't even talk back, they don't understand you."

"I'm sorry."

"This is how it's supposed to be. I only exist for you to keep from boiling into mindless insanity and kicking the bucket." He sighed, putting out his cigarette on a nearby wall and lighting a new one. "But I had fun running this shithole while it lasted, I guess. It was sort of like a 'world takeover' simulator, now I know how to deal with real people."

"I'm glad."

"Don't be," The Dictator lowered his brows. "I still control you."


End file.
